


Loving Husband and Father

by SleeplessInGeneral



Series: What About Your Camp Spirit? [1]
Category: Dead of Summer (TV)
Genre: Jessie and Drew are basically already best friends, Modern Day Setting, Modern Love plot filler, OCs - Freeform, most characters are OCs pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7906366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleeplessInGeneral/pseuds/SleeplessInGeneral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Andrea, sweetie, I'm coming to pick you up," his mother told him through the phone.</p><p>"But I want to stay at camp. It's the middle of the summer! You can't do this!"</p><p>"Sweetie, I want you to write the epitaph on the tombstone. Everything is already set for the funeral. I'm coming to take you home."<br/>-</p><p>A telling of the death of Drew's father, since the writers told us nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving Husband and Father

**Author's Note:**

> This story is one of many of my retellings - stories that weren't told, scenes that I'd like to change, and everything in between. The canon is being tweaked in that I'm basing a lot of information on the already-existing info from the show.

Andrea was avoiding everyone the day his dad passed away. He was eleven, his dad was already having trouble walking without a walking stick, the first time he went to the hospital they detected nothing and just sent him home…

Last night he lost the battle against his own body, trying to get adapted to a pacemaker. And no one cared. And he wasn't there to be with him at his last moments.

"Andrea, sweetie, I'm coming to pick you up," his mother told him through the phone.

"But I want to stay at camp. It's the middle of the summer! You can't do this!"

"Sweetie, I want you to write the epitaph on the tombstone. Everything is already set for the funeral. I'm coming to take you home."

"Andy, is everything okay?" Becky asked as she came into the cabin. Andrea covered the speaker and turned, teary-eyed, towards his counselor.

"My dad died. My mom is coming to pick me up."

"I'm so sorry." Becky walked up and hugged the young kid. "We'll certainly miss you, but it's going to be okay. Just remember to notify Simon that you're leaving."

"Thanks, Becky." When the counselor left, Andrea returned to the call. "I'm sorry, mom –"

"Who was that?"

"Becky, my cabin counselor. She wanted to see if something's wrong. I've been taking a long time."

"Pack your things, Andrea. I'll be there tomorrow."

"Alright, mom."

While the rest of the campers spent the day playing capture the flag and doing other team activities, Andrea spent the rest of day at the archery spot, deeply thankful for Becky and her ability to get what she wants every time. Arrow after arrow, all of them hitting the target – even if not dead center – he imagined each arrow to be full of pent up anger, but it didn't help him feel relieved. Not in the least. He knew he wasn't supposed to be doing that, but Becky had his back. And he felt very happy that she did.

By the time bedtime arrived, he just couldn't feel anything anymore. He was emotionally and physically exhausted. So when Jessie lay down next to him on the lower bunk, he didn't know what to say to her aside from "not right now, Jessie."

"You look really bad, Andy."

"My dad just died. What do you expect me to look like? A ray of sunshine?"

"…oh. I'm sorry." She looked away for a second, and then squished Andrea in a bone-crushing hug. "I'll do anything for you, you know that."

"I do. Thanks, Jessie. But I really need some alone time right now."

"Okay. Have some alone time." She climbed to the top bunk and looked down. "But don't forget to wear a black dress. Your mom would kill you if you wouldn't."

"I know, I know. I'm not stupid."

"And I want you to call Morelli first thing when you're getting home."

"Will do."

"And I fully expect you to write the most adorable –"

"Young ladies, you have five minutes, shut the hell up!" Becky called from her side of the cabin. Jessie jumped quickly back into her bed. "Otherwise no raid tomorrow!"

"Yes, mother!" Another girl – probably Cricket – called back.

Andrea knocked on Jessie's bedframe. "I need to wear a skirt tomorrow."

"Why would you do that?" She asked, hanging from her bed once again.

"My mom is coming to pick me up. And she wants me to write the epitaph."

"So write the epitaph. You're the best writer I know and she must know it too."

"That's not what I'm worried about…" He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his clothes.

"Oh. Right." Jessie disappeared into her mind palace for a moment. "You'd still wear boy clothes anyway, so why are you worried?"

"Because I can't do it with my mom's permission until next summer."

"So don't ask for her permission. Just do it."

"Will you help me pack tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Sure."

* * *

Andrea was struggling with writing the epitaph. Kimmy said she'd help, but so far she was doing nothing helpful. Just raiding the cabinets for cookies and other snacks. And so far, Andrea had nothing.

"Joseph Michael Dalton," he muttered to himself. "Born October sixteenth, nineteen seventy-three, died July twenty-third, twenty oh nine…" It was so frustrating. "Kimmy, what should an epitaph say?"

"How about 'well, this escalated quickly'?" His cousin said with her mouth full. "You know, it's nice –"

"No, Kimberley, I am not writing 'well, this escalated quickly' on my dad's tombstone."

"So why do you ask me for help? You know I can never be serious."

"Because you weren't serious in your Yale interview."

"Beth, can you please tell Andrea not to sass up to me?" Kimmy whined. Andrea just rolled his eyes and kept staring at the paper, waiting for inspiration.

"Mom, can you please tell Kimmy that I only got back from camp this afternoon and the funeral is tomorrow and I'm trying to focus here?"

"Girls, if I hear any more requests from you, you're both going to bed without dinner." Beth called from the kitchen. "And I mean it. If you keep me busy with your arguments, there will be no dinner."

Kimmy looked defeated, and Andrea felt a jolt of pride. But the paper still bugged him. He knew what he should write – the usual stuff, born this and that, died this and that, left behind list of family members, blah blah blah, yada yada yada. But he just didn't know how to do it.

' _Loving husband and father,_ ' he wrote down. "Mom, do I need to write about us?"

"No, this is for the eulogy. Andrea, please, don't keep my busy –"

"I'm sorry! I just had to ask."

And then he added, ' _of an only son_ '.

* * *

 

When Jessie was back after camp, Andrea was sick of not crying. He somehow managed to force himself to break down and soak her shirt completely when she came to visit him the day after she returned. And he didn't let go of her for a long time. So when he did, she went to lay down on the couch, feeling her legs go numb after standing for so long.

"So, how did the funeral go?"

"It was okay, I guess." Andrea rolled his eyes and looked away. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, hoping his mom won't see him like that. "The tombstone is being placed next week."

"So you'll take me there when it's already in place?"

"Yeah."

A period of awkward silence passed before Andrea ran to his room and came back with a few papers. He shoved them in Jessie's hand and waited for her to read them.

Moments later, she looked at him, confused. "Why all the crossing?"

"Why do you think? Read again."

So she did. Again, and again, and again. "But what is wrong with writing 'loving husband and father to an only son'?"

"That my mom had to read this before approving."

"So what?" Jessie sat up and put the papers on the coffee table. "She's your mom. She should accept you."

"Yeah, well, not everyone is like you, Jessie. Not every mother had a child like Kathy Morelli or is as open-minded as others."

"Well, then you should change it. Force her to see it as it is."

"I'd rather not right now. I just lost my dad and my mom just got widowed. I think it will end badly."

"Well, you still have to." She patted on a spot near her, getting him to sit next to her. "And you're right. Compared to your mom, your dad really was a loving husband and father."

**Author's Note:**

> I based Drew's dad's death on my own grandmother's death. She outlived my grandfather by five years, but during her last year, she was getting worse. She was supposed to fly to Barcelona this one day during spring break but she felt very bad, so she went to the hospital, they could identify nothing and so she was sent home. During the Passover seder she stayed at home with my aunt, and two days later she was admitted to the hospital where it turned out she had a heart attack. She went through many surgeries and a pacemaker transplant before deciding she does not want to live her life as a nursing case and, the night we got back home from her place, she died. So yeah, this is based on a real story.
> 
> On another note, I do know that Drew's name is not Andrea and that it was never Andrea, he even tells Blair that there was never an Andrea in Modern Love, but seeing as this is set when the gang are eleven, it doesn't matter. I don't think he knew what his name was at eleven. There will be a piece about how he found out what his name is. I wrote it already but it needs to be rewritten for personal reasons.


End file.
